Overflow
by Ryuutsu
Summary: Kaldur/Roy. When Roy disappears to one of his Speedy searches for too long, Kaldur starts writing a journal, but ends up revealing too much. Rated T for Roy's foul mouth.


**A/N: **A (late) birthday present for Shade's Ninde, because both her and her fics are beyond inspiring and just overall amazing.

Many thanks to Morgan for beta-ing, and Mashy & Sasu for proof reading and feedback as well (:

* * *

"Did you ever think of writing a diary?"

M'gann was floating just above her bed with a slight glimmer in her eyes, the one that somehow always appeared whenever it was her turn to reveal any of the knowledge she had learnt about the many Earth customs, and one that reminded Kaldur of whenever she successfully prepared a meal without burning any of its courses.

The Atlantean raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "A diary?" he asked uncertainly. He had heard of the term before, yet he was quite perplexed about its true purpose and furthermore, its possible role of aid in this particular case.

The reason Kaldur sought help with the one person he thought had the most experience with the way minds work, was the fact that it had been nearly two weeks since he first found Roy's apartment abandoned in rush; without a trace or any attempts of communication up until now, leaving his mind to wander around aimlessly for explanation. Too aimlessly for a team leader.

The archer's sudden disappearances since his search for Speedy began have become a quite common occurrence. It was not unsurprising for him to find a lead and act on it in the middle of the night, failing to respond or contact anyone for days, and sometimes longer.

This time, however, things were different. This time, he did not return a few evenings later, locking himself inside his apartment and taking his frustration out on his patrol as he normally did. He did not accept Kaldur's call after several missed ones, only to grumble something about not wanting to speak with him in the first place and then hang up. All he had left behind was a two week radio silence along with an empty apartment, and having no clues about the whereabouts of his best friend, or the power to offer his assistance took a toll on Kaldur's mind to the point where it became too big of a distraction on his Team's duties. The others noticed it too. They most certainly did not need their leader "to have a staring contest with the clouds when on a stakeout to bust Luthor's ass", as Artemis was kind enough to point out. Kaldur knew she was right though, and that it was time for him to take care of the issue.

"Yes," Miss Martian nodded enthusiastically, still seemingly excited over being able to explain something. "Think of it as a journal, or a… mission log of your thoughts, you know?" she added after noticing the confusion hesitating to leave the Atlantean's face.

"I've learnt it's a popular hobby here on Earth. It's been helping me… uh, helping _people_ with what they need to get off their mind. "

She glanced shyly at the small pink book covered in various stickers on her nightstand and quickly turned her attention to the drawers instead.

"Hello, Megan! I think I may have a spare around here somewhere!" she exclaimed, rummaging through her things as if looking for something.

"And you believe this would rid me of my distraction?" the Atlantean turned the plain black notebook she had pushed in his webbed hands moments later around, eyeing it doubtfully. "You are certain of this?"

"Well… no," she admitted, laughing nervously as she shrugged. "But it's worth a try, isn't it?"

* * *

The entries were short, almost military-like the first time Kaldur sat down and began writing that night, barely allowing himself to stray off from stating mere facts.

_**July 7th**_

_**8:12 PM:**__ I am fairly uncertain as to what is meant to be my contribution in here, yet Miss Martian seems to believe it will lessen my distraction from my duties and prevent my thoughts from straying if I put them in a written form._

_**8: 20 PM:**__ Red Arrow has been missing for nearly two weeks now._

He was still fairly disbelieving of the method, as having his thoughts documented somewhere other than in his mind felt almost like cheating, but after his pen hesitated just above the paper for a little over a minute, he still added three more words.

_I am worried._

* * *

The second time he picked up the journal was almost a week later, after Miss Martian had stopped her dish-washing duty to inquire about his progress, and he had assured her he would give it another try.

_**July 13**__**th**_

_**9:46 PM:**__ We have tried contacting Red Arrow again. He fails to respond to his communication unit, as well as to his mobile phone. I have checked his apartment as well, yet it does not seem he returned to it in the time of his disappearance._

_**9:51 PM:**__ I wish I was able to do more._

After that, it became almost a routine for Kaldur. Every couple of days, he would sit down behind his desk before heading to bed and admit the worries he had been too afraid to speak of out loud into the little black notebook.

* * *

_**July 19**__**th**_

_**7:18 PM:**__ Red Arrow is still not responding. I have checked his apartment on my way back from the recent mission, but it is still abandoned. I merely hope he is well._

_**8:25 PM:**__ Roy is a man of a stubborn and determined mind when he wishes to achieve a goal. Yet I have seen these qualities of him become an enemy worse than those we chase. _

_I hope that is not the case and he knows better than to disregard his safety._

* * *

_**July 21**__**st**_

_**4:23 AM:**__ I had a nightmare._

* * *

_**July 22**__**nd**_

_**8:54 PM:**__ Roy disappeared nearly a month ago. Black Canary has spoken to us this afternoon, preparing us for the worst. _

_**9:03 PM:**__ …I maintain she is wrong. I am not yet prepared to lose hope._

* * *

_**July 27**__**th**_

_**5:33 PM:**__ Roy was never able to comprehend why we wish to treat him the same as we did before he learnt of his Cadmus origin._

_He deems his life worthless and merely a means to rescue the original Roy Harper to return the life that he, as Roy claims, stole from him._

_**5:40 PM:**__ He does not wish to accept the fact that it is him we have been acquainted with all this time, him who I have come to accept as my closest friend. He is the one we know… _I know_ and care for, far more than he is aware of and far more than I should have allowed myself to feel in our line of duty._

_And although I am content this oyster will birth no pearls and I cannot have someone think of me in that manner, I… merely wish for Roy to return safely._

And somehow, that very same evening, Roy did.

* * *

The second the knob of Roy's door turned unexpectedly easily and the Atlantean stepped through into the apartment, the momentarily ecstatic feeling of having seen the light in the archer's window after so many weeks simmered down instantly; the first trigger being the all too familiar smell of alcohol reaching his nostrils, and the second the sight that accompanied it.

The room, as well as its occupier, has certainly seen better days. The sink was loaded with an amount of dishes Kaldur had not thought possible to fit. The sofa was covered in about a dozen soda cans (the contents of one or two of which seemed to have ended up on the rug) and the old worn out table he had helped drag into the redhead's apartment a few years ago was now barely visible under piles of various scribbled over documents, marked maps, an ancient laptop and what appeared to be a nearly empty bottle of cheap, local store-bought whiskey.

In the midst of it all, Roy seemed like a mere shadow of himself, the sight of dark shades under his eyes and untreated bruises all over his much skinnier body just making the Atlantean's heart sink further.

"Roy."

The word left the dark skinned boy's lips quietly and with an unusual hesitation as he shouldered his training bag and took a step closer.

The red headed archer was in the middle of pouring the last of whiskey into his glass when he flinched at the mention of his name, obviously not noticing the other's presence beforehand. The disturbance caused him to spill almost half of the brown liquid over the glass edge, and he cursed loudly.

"Shit, Kal!" Roy's voice was low and raspy, as if he'd forgotten how to speak. "What are you doing here?"

Kaldur's brow furrowed, the words feeling like a slap to his face. What was he doing here? Aside from checking to see whether his best friend, the one they had not heard from in weeks had returned from his solo mission yet, like he had almost every night for the past month, from worrying how many times his life had been at stake? Apart from wishing to know whether he had returned unharmed?

But he spoke none of his thoughts out loud.

"I merely wished to make certain you were well, my friend," he cautiously responded instead.

The archer nodded absently, his attention turned back to the glass as he moved the wet paper out of the way. "I'm fine," he then stated without any feeling to it, the two words slurred into something barely understandable.

"You do not seem fine, Roy," the Atlantean's frown deepened as he moved closer to inspect the particularly deep looking cut on the other's shoulder, only to have his hand not-too-gently shoved away.

"Fuck, don't start this again, Kal. I said I'm fine, yeah?"

The harsh tone of the redhead's voice took Kaldur by surprise, and he moved a step back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You need to stop this," he then spoke calmly after a pause, a tad more ice to his voice than intended.

"Stop what?! Jesus, I don't have time for this crap, I need to – "

"Stop pushing those who wish to help away."

For a moment, it seemed like Roy was going to hit something, but he seemed to have settled for merely crumpling a piece of wet paper.

"I don't need your help," he muttered under his breath, pouring the whiskey that remained in his glass down his throat and then setting it down with an unnecessarily loud thud. "I need you to leave me alone."

"This foolish self-sacrifice of yours will help no one," the Atlantean countered, stepping forward again, this time in a more decisive manner.

"Yeah? Well, no one needs a fucking copy once they have an original."

Kaldur felt his gills flutter as his calm was gradually replaced by anger.

"Roy –"

"I get you guys your real friend back, and you get rid of the imposter. It's a win-win, right?" The archer let out a bitter laugh, turning his attention back to the documents in front of him, rubbing his eyes to try and regain some focus. "So just let me fucking get back to my work."

There was a loud thud that caused the archer to drop the glass he was still holding as Kaldur's training bag landed on the table just a few inches from Roy's face, blocking his view of the document on the table.

"That is nowhere close to a 'win'!" the Atlantean raised his voice, its volume competing to drown out the sound of glass shattering on the floor. "You _are_ our real friend, Roy Harper. I have grown to think of you as my closest friend, and do not believe for a second I will allow either of us to forget that."

There was the longest moment of agonizing silence before the redhead spoke again.

"…Maybe you should though," he said, his voice breaking for the first time and dripping with bitter, agonizing surrender as he turned his gaze to the sport bag in front of him. "You should forget about me. You all should, and allow me to return what I stole from… from Speedy. A poor excuse for a clone like me could never fill his shoes anyway."

"That is not true," Kaldur spoke quietly, but with a slight tremble to his voice that threatened to explode yet again at the thought of his friend being so utterly oblivious to the fact that he was far more than just a clone. "A replica can be just as beautiful as the original."

"Stop it, Kal. Just… stop and go. Why the fuck do you even still care?"

The archer was standing now, face to face with the Atlantean as his voice escalated back to his previously angry tone.

Kaldur was not a man of reckless actions, but those words broke any and all walls of self-containment that he had managed to put up for himself. And so out of pure desperate need to show Roy that people do care, that _he _cares… he kissed him.

It was not a passionately romantic kiss, nor was it a gentle and sweet one. It was two mouths clashing against each other, one's lips rough and frozen in surprise as the other's were pressed desperately against them, as if trying to re-assert faith in the redhead's mind.

And then Kaldur was walking out the door, his mind racing fast enough to compete with his heartbeat and by the time Roy had managed to gather words to respond, he was gone.

The navy blue training bag, however, was left sitting in front of Roy for another twenty minutes, before the red headed archer swept everything off the table in a fit of frustration and revealed its contents - including a little black notebook.

* * *

"Let's try that again, shall we?"

Black Canary's voice echoed through the training room as she offered her hand to help the Team's leader get back up. This was the second time that day he had ended up on his back after a relatively easy blow to dodge. Coincidentally, it was also the second time he had unwittingly allowed his thoughts to stray back to Roy, the final words of their conversation and an all too vivid image of what followed echoing through his mind. Kaldur was unable to miss the brief concern in their supervisor's eyes.

It had been four days since the Atlantean had left the archer's apartment in haste, regretting his reckless actions every second since then. He was all too aware he should not have imposed on Roy with what he felt, not when he was already buried by his own insecurities, and the guilt of it was weighing heavily on Kaldur's shoulders. He had then returned to see the archer the next day, wishing to apologize and resolve the matter he had left so carelessly exposed, but had yet again stumbled upon an empty apartment.

After three more rounds of two on one combat (one of which ended up with Kid Flash landing on top of Robin and them bickering whose fault it was they'd lost), Canary finally proclaimed the end of the training session.

"That's enough for today!" she declared, shutting down the training platform before catching up with Kaldur and gently touching his shoulder to gain his attention.

"What's going on with you, Kaldur?" her frown deepened as her eyes inspected the younger boy's face for an answer. The rest of the team did not seem to pay any attention to the two as they slowly left the room, engrossed in every day chitchat and laughter.

Kaldur swallowed, his face, however, indicating nothing but calm composure. "My apologies. I assure you, it will not happen again."

Dinah's eyes narrowed, and an unreadable expression flashing past her face.

"This is about Roy, isn't it?" she said slowly after a moment of silence, causing the other's eyes to widen slightly in surprise.

"I-… It does not matter. I will make certain this is resolved as soon as possible."

The blonde sighed. "Listen, I know Roy can be a real pain in the ass sometimes and I don't know what happened between you two, but… no matter how stubborn he acts or how much he tries to deny it to himself, he needs you. I can see it." She paused slightly, offering Kaldur an almost pleading gaze. "Don't listen to him if he tells you to walk away."

"That was never my intention," the Atlantean smiled weakly. Yet somehow, he feared that after the happenings of the other night, Roy would be well within his rights if he demanded for Kaldur to leave.

Canary seemed satisfied with his answer, as she squeezed his shoulder promptly and offered him a short nod.

"Oh, and... speaking of Roy," she added, "He was in a hurry when I spoke to him this morning, but he wanted me to give you this."

Black Canary rummaged through her abnormally large bag, tossing an all too familiar object in Kaldur's direction, before waving him off with a painfully knowing smile on her lips and disappearing through the zeta tube.

The Atlantean froze as he recognized the black notebook in his hands. He had been so busy distracting himself with his Team duties that he had not paid attention to any possible missing items.

A sudden wave of shock, followed by one of indescribable embarrassment overcame him at the thought of Roy having read its contents. He did not intend for any of the written to be seen by an outside eye, he wished not to burden others, least of all Roy, with the troubled thoughts that were his own.

The blue sweater he had hung over his shoulder quietly slipped off to the ground, the muffled sound of its landing breaking the newly made silence in the training room as he carefully opened the journal as if he was trying to re-affirm the severity of the situation.

It was all there, of course, every last word, right down to:

_And although I am content this oyster will birth no pearls and I cannot have someone think of me in that manner, I… merely wish for Roy to return safely._

Yet that did not seem to be all. Right underneath his last entry, Kaldur recognized an addition in Roy's scribble writing (one that many people, including Ollie, had trouble deciphering) and the worried frown slowly dissolved into a small smile stretching his lips as he read:

_Fuck jewelry, Kal. You have that someone.  
I'll be back tonight._

It was about seven hours later that the two kissed for the second time.


End file.
